i'm might just watch it right now instead of going to sleep

The Future/(is now)

I can’t believe this is something I saw with my own two eyeballs, because apparently all that’s happened so far wasn’t coincidence, or carelessness - apparently Dabb watched Season 8 and made a deliberate bet with someone - he’d make it gayer, or else. And so here it is, (almost) out of the subtext (Sorry, Dean and You can’t just go dark like that. We didn’t know what happened to you. We were worried. That’s not okay and I needed to come back here with a win for you and We’re just better together and I’d like that and THE TAAAAAAAPE). Honest to God, I think I read twenty versions of that fight yesterday as people scrambled to write pre-codas out of nerves and excitement, and they were all magnificent and yet, somehow, less shippy and less obvious and less romantic than what actually happened on the show, wtf? And Dean sulking in his room, Cas knocking at his door, hesitating, coming in? 

I swear to God - when Dean called him back, when he started telling Cas all those things - for a second, I actually believed he would yank on Cas’ tie and kiss him, because that’s always, always what happens in that scenario. Or, you know, Dean gets overwhelmed by his own feelings, by how much he’s just showed his hand here, and walks away. That’s also textbook fanfiction, and yeah, so it’s fluff instead of angst, but, come on - this is Supernatural - did anyone doubt it’d be angsty? Let’s just hope in a happy ending, because that Kelly voiceover (I love you. But we won’t ever be together. There is no happy ending for either of us.) gave me the creeps.

And what about the mind control, someone might argue. Mind control, schmind control. That’s like, the number one Prove that you love me forever and ever trope, and even if we’ve seen it before (if simply because Destiel has been built with every single love trope in the book, and, in this case, they used it over and over and over again), we’ve never seen its final form. During the crypt scene, Cas deflected instead of admitting the obvious (let’s be generous: maybe he didn’t know himself), and in the Bunker, Dean just barely managed not to kill Cas, and had to walk away before the Mark overpowered him, so no, that was not a good time either. So this thing we’ve been promised for a while - this My love for you is stronger than time or tide or evil curse - is yet to come, and with the way things are going, I’m feeling pretty optimistic.

Also: however Dean will read this when he wakes up, Cas is choosing love, and he’s choosing free will. He went to Heaven hoping they’d have a way out of this mess so that Sam and Dean would be safe, he stole the Colt so they couldn’t face Dagon and be hurt (which is text, by the way, not subtext), he went against orders because he felt that was the right thing to do (a human feeling, because angels are created for a mission), he stayed away from Sam and Dean to protect them - all of that is unangelic behaviour, and man, Dean and Cas are going to get into so many fights, aren’t they, because Cas learned how to love from Dean, and that means he’s got that same kind of stubborn, maternal, overbearing way to love Dean has, which means lots of I didn’t tell you because I love you and I walked away because I love you and I booped you to sleep because I love you and I really hope Sam’s going to stay out of the way, because there will be a lot of storming through corridors and huffing and outrage and Can you believe that bastard and it will be absolutely glorious.

As for the rest of it - though, to be perfectly honest, I barely noticed a ‘rest of it’ because my eyeballs were glued to the unbelievable Gay Feelfest unfolding in front of me - I’m really happy with it. I’m happy we’re finally talking Big Things again - Could either of you kill an innocent, do our parents determine our destiny, is there such a thing as innate character, and so on - and I’m happy with the insight we were given both in Kelly’s and in Dagon’s minds, and why they do what they do. I loved every scene Cas and Kelly had together, that kind of, We’re not heroes, and we may be worthless, but we’re what’s left vibe, and Cas’ smile when the baby was kicking, and I like where they’re going, how they’ll try to get this pregnancy to term. Sure, this baby’s got a lot against him - he’s Lucifer’s kid (although, we still don’t know who and what Lucifer was before he was forced to carry the Mark), and one of his temper tantrums could possibly destroy the Earth, but, then again, so could a lot of other things - he’s not special (to quote a famous tumblr post). And if we’re going with free will and self-determination of our own destiny, then we should have the courage not to nitpick: everyone should be able to decide for themselves, and this baby is no exception. 

(I mean, think about it. He’s clearly able to give anyone extraordinary powers - he gave Cas enough ammo to take down a bloody Prince of Hell - so he could have chosen anyone as his protector. He could have picked Dagon, he could have stuck with Kelly, he could have chosen any lesser demon or angel or random doctor they’ve been in contact with over the last few weeks - and yet he chose Cas, and Cas - as we’ve known for a while - is the curiosity, the abomination, the miracle: the angel who can love. No, I want to believe we’re headed towards good things here - narratively or otherwise.)

Final point: again, I know it’s not ideal to carry around a nuclear warhead in your belly, but the beginning of this episode gave me heavy The Handmaiden’s flashbacks (superb show, by the way, go watch it), so the fact they’re giving Kelly some kind of choice - that’s uplifting. Because yeah, maybe she’s slightly brainwashed, but this isn’t like any kind of brainwash I’ve ever seen on the show, because both Kelly and Cas are also lucid, completely themselves. They resemble most closely what Dean was like when he lost his memories, and I think now I’m going to go and cry forever at the implications. But hey, at least Cas’ got his own room at the Bunker and Yes, dumbass - we

anonymous asked:

I'm a sucker for some good Marichat sleepover sin & fluff

Okay, I’m not technically taking prompts right now, but reading this ask gave me an idea, and I couldn’t say no, so…


“I haven’t looked.”

Adrien sat up slowly, rubbing his head and trying to make sense of where he was. “What happened?”

“Ladybug dropped you off here,” Marinette answered, facing towards the wall. “She said you umm… got hit by some catnip? She couldn’t stay, and she asked me to keep an eye on you.”

He slowly recognized the shapes of her furniture and the bits of photographs he’d seen before in the slivers of moonlight creeping from her windows. “Catnip?” His mind felt slow, as though every thought was fighting through a thick layer of fog to reach the surface.

“Yeah, she said it should wear off overnight. As soon as you, um… lit up, I made sure I didn’t look. Your identity is still safe.”

Keep reading

hmltntrsh51  asked:

OKAY BUT WHAT IF (this a request) NEWT X READER X STEPHEN SMUTFIC OKAY THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED. READER CALLS BOTH OF THEM DADDY (I'm dead) If you don't want to write this just let me know. I won't be upset at all 😊

Okay guys. Here is the promised NewtxReaderxStephen fic. I wasn’t able to get every single thing y'all wanted in it. I went where inspiration took me. This is the first threesome fic I’ve ever written, so yeah…I was like ‘the fuck is going on!!’ The entire time I was writing it lmao.

Hopefully, it came out decently enough. I didn’t proofread, I’m too lazy. So if there’s embarrassing mistakes, my bad. Also!!! I was so into NewtxStephen I may have made this gayer than expected…..if you ain’t into dudexdude leave now….like right now. Lol

MASTERLIST


******

Imagine: A threesome with Newt and Stephen.

Stephen sat idly by at the table, flipping through his cards and drawings. He seemed to be looking for something important, but really all he reached for was the silver lighter he stolen off a dead German soldier’s body. In the reality of it all, he would’ve never even thought of doing such a thing, but now, so deep into this war nothing seemed to matter.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.”

Your voice gained his attention, and he looked over at you lying on the bed next to Newt with a raised eyebrow. As if to spite you, he flicked the cap to the lighter up, never leaving your annoyed gaze as he scratched his finger over the switch and ignited his cigarette. He took one long drag, the burning sensation slowly settling his nerves.

“Go back to sleep.”

Stephen’s tone was exhausted, and you could tell he could use some sleep himself, but the lieutenant was hell bent on staying up every single night. There wasn’t much you could do though, truthfully you weren’t even supposed to be here. You spent months running from the war, you had lost your entire family, and if the German’s found you…you’d just end up right along with them. By luck or not, you came upon Stephen one night. You were hiding in the bushes before a dilapidated building, trying hard to hold your breath because you weren’t sure who was on the other side. Nothing helped though, and with a rough tug you found yourself pulled from the foliage and thrown to the ground by a British soldier. When the young man saw it was just a girl, he backed off, sighing heavily and looking back at his superior with a relieved nod. That young man, Newt, ended up becoming your lover, and in truth as handsome as he was, the very need for human affection is what drove you to him to begin with, Stephen just happened to…fall into the same relationship as you two eventually. All of you seeking the same thing, love in a time of hate.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

You scolded, rolling your eyes and snuggling back into Newt’s chest as he tightened his grip on you. The younger soldier was asleep already, head nestled between the crook of your neck as he breathed softly. Stephen just chuckled at your hurt tone, still smoking his cigarette without a care in the world. He flipped through the pages of a newspaper, half of it burned off from the fire that happened earlier today. Still, he read what he could if only to gain any knowledge he might not already have of the war.

“Come on.”

With your hand held out, you beckoned for the lieutenant to join you both, wanting him to rest at least an hour or two. Stephen seemed reluctant, but he removed the cigarette from his mouth walking over to the bed and setting it on the ash tray. He took a seat against the headboard, one leg still off the bed as the other bent slightly and allowed you to rest your head on his knee. He ran his fingers through your hair, humming a song to himself as you closed your eyes. You reached for his other hand, curling your fingers between his in comfort. He squeezed it gently, a sign that he was still very much here in every way.

“Stop bloody singing…”

Newt groaned in frustration, his tired eyes opening to glare up at his friend and superior. Stephen just scoffed at him, clearly having no intention to do as he was asked from someone much younger than him.

“How about you bloody fuck off, Scamander.”

Newt’s lips stretched into a grin, his green eyes softening when he tilted his head to look at you instead. “Hello, darling.”

“Morning, Newt.”

You leaned back a bit, kissing his cheek affectionately before going back to resting on Stephen’s knee.

“You’re on trench duty, Scamander.”

Newt sighed into your shoulder, kissing it lovingly as he glanced up at the lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.”

You watched them both carefully, smiling at the way they spoke to one another. It was obvious they both cared about each other, and truthfully, when you weren’t around you suspected they still shared a bed together. There were multiple times you had walked in and they would quickly make a distance between themselves. You didn’t understand why they felt the need to hide it from you of all people, the intimacies you’ve all shared in this very bed was beyond the realm of normal for most these days anyway.

From the corner of your eye you could see Stephen’s hand resting on the pillow next to Newt’s head, and you had no doubt he was giving the younger soldier the same affections he had been giving you earlier when he was running his fingers between your locks.

Newt nuzzled into your neck, kissing you a bit more passionately now as he nipped at your pulse. It was all too clear to you that Stephen had ignited a certain part of Newt that only came out in the privacy of Stephen’s tent, not that you had any complaints. The love you all shared with one another was something beautiful in your eyes, twisted as it may seem to others.

“Have your fun, Scamander. Then resume your duties.”

The lieutenant smirked down at Newt, still brushing his fingertips across the younger man’s hair as he riled him up for you. Newt seemed pleased with this, and he tugged you closer to his body as he pressed his lower abdomen against your backside. You could feel the hardened heat of his crotch pressing into you, Stephen’s touch having already gotten him more than aroused.

A gasp fell from your parted lips, and you instinctively pushed back into him, wanting more friction as the warmth between your legs began to build.

“Newt…”

You half moaned his name out, still gripping Stephen’s hand in yours as he encouraged Newt to keep going. Which Newt was more than happy to do. He sucked just below your earlobe, knowing after many nights spent together that you were overly sensitive in that spot. He smiled into your heated skin, loving the way you squirmed in his hold. His hands slowly trailed down your front, unbuttoning the top of your dress as he slipped a hand inside.

The minute his roughened fingertips brushed across your nipple you arched back into him, letting out a long moan that conveyed just how badly you suddenly needed him. Newt pressed his lips into your cheek, whispering out sweet words as he ground his hips into you. The pressure alone was enough to make him want to cum, but Stephen scolded him to stop.

“Not yet.”

The lieutenant slid down the headboard, pushing himself up as he found a comfortable spot and laid down next to you. He turned on his side, now sandwiching you between both men the very heat from their bodies making you yearn for so much more.

You gripped Stephen’s uniform, pulling him down so he could kiss you. His lips smashed into yours, tongues tangling and fighting with one another for dominance that he easily gained over you.

Newt watched you both kiss, his breath hitching in his throat as he tried to control the raging desires he was feeling, but how could he when he saw just how needy you both were for this. Newt groaned deeply in want, going back to kissing your neck as he slid his hand up your thigh, pushing the material of your dress up as he exposed your panties. His finger dipped beneath the hem of them, pulling them off slowly as he bit down on your shoulder. His cock was aching terribly behind his pants, and if Stephen wasn’t going to further his relations with you yet, then he would.

Newt pulled away, the sound of his belt coming undone alerting you both. You looked back at him, biting down your lip as you waited for the younger man to take you. Stephen just chuckled at Newt’s eagerness, and he watched intently as his soldier pulled himself free of his restraints.

Newt’s cock was swollen with need, the head of it already leaking drops of cum as he stroked himself. He looked up at Stephen, a silent agreement between the two of them as Stephen grabbed your thigh and lifted it up. He laid it against his own leg, letting you wrap it around his waist as Newt settled himself behind you.

Stephen kissed you on the lips, smirking into them as you gasped loudly, and he used this to his advantage as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, cupping the lieutenant’s cheek as Newt had begun to thrust into you. His movements were quick, but hard enough to make your legs quiver from the force. The sound of his skin hitting you filled the room, and you whined and moaned into Stephen’s face at the feeling of being completely filled by the younger soldier.


Stephen licked his lips in arousal, eyeing his soldier as he fucked you senseless. If he could just sit and watch this forever he would, but his own need was becoming apparent to him. He needed some form of relief and he was going to get it from one of you. He inched his hand down, snaking it between your body and his as he found your clit. He rubbed at it, creating a rhythm that had you practically screaming at all the sensations.

You threw your head back against Newt’s shoulder, crying out as your body began to stiffen from all the pleasure. Stephen’s fingers worked you wildly, and Newt just kept slamming into you from behind like it was the last time he’d get to make love to you. It wasn’t something you thought you could handle for long, and if Stephen kept that pace up you would be finished in no time.

“Tell the lieutenant how much you like that…”

Newt grunted out, licking the shell of your ear as he smiled over at Stephen. The older man laughed at that, his eyes focused on his soldier as they both awaited your response. You mumbled out a sentence that none of them understood, but you were far too gone to respond coherently.

“You know, it’s considered insubordination if you ignore your superiors.”

Stephen rasped out, his nose pressing into your cheek as he quickened the movement of his fingers.

“I….fuck…”

Newt grinned at your language, not used to hearing you talk like that except for in these moments. But, the very sound of your seductive voice made him just want to move harder, to give you so much pleasure you couldn’t walk for a week or two. He leaned over towards Stephen, his lips inches from his lieutenant’s as he spoke.

“Get inside her…”

Stephen gritted his teeth, the overwhelming desire to kiss the younger man clawing at the back of his mind. He eyed him warily, unsure of what to do, but he simply nodded, removing his hand from between you two and undoing his own belt. You watched with a shade of red on your cheeks as Stephen brought his fingers to his lips, ready to lap off whatever juices from you clung to them. But, Newt grabbed his hand, capturing Stephen’s attention as he leaned forward, green eyes gazing up at his lieutenant as he wrapped his warm tongue around them. He sucked down on Stephen’s fingers, bobbing his head, mimicking exactly what he’s done to him before in a much more intimate setting.

The lieutenant stared in disbelief, not really sure how he felt about Newt doing this in front of you. But, with that sweet mouth sliding around his fingers like that he wasn’t sure he truly cared anymore.

“Scamander…”

Stephen’s voice was heavy with desire, and you smiled widely, hiding your face between the lieutenant’s neck. You wondered when they’d get around to just letting themselves seek pleasure in each other even when with you. As far as you were concerned, this only made these moments that more pleasurable.

Stephen groaned at the loss of that tongue flicking around his fingers, and he watched as Newt licked his lips, teasing him further. But, he kept his wits about him, swallowing that lump in his throat as he shifted closer. He spread your legs wider, giving himself room to join Newt in pleasuring you.

Both men kissed you, one on the lips, the other on your shoulder trying to distract you from the initial feeling of Stephen pushing inside of you as well.

“Ahh!”

You clutched Stephen’s jacket, the feeling of being stretched by them both causing a jolt of pain to shoot up your spine. And yet, the idea of it all was enough to make you ease up, wanting to feel both their cocks thrust into you and bring you to completion.

“Bloody hell-”

Newt growled as Stephen’s cock joined his inside your warmth, the feeling of the older man’s length rubbing into his making him want to lose it right then. But, he muffled his moans into your back, grabbing a hold of your hips as he made you lay still.

You let out the breath you were holding, whimpering out as you dropped your forehead against Stephen’s chest. Both men were panting by now, wanting to move but not wanting to hurt you all the same.

“Are you alright?” Stephen whispered into your ear, nuzzling your cheek. You smiled up at him, nodding your head softly as you begged them both to move.

Newt looked at Stephen, his breath quickening when the lieutenant’s eyes met his. They slowly started to move inside you, finally syncing their rhythms as they thrust up and down. By this point, the room was filled with the sound of all your moans and groans, each of you giving into the sensations and wanting more. Newt reached over and grasped Stephen’s jacket, looking at him with such a passion as he pulled him forward.

Their lips crashed into each other, and Stephen finally caved into his desires as he forced his tongue into Newt’s mouth. They kept up their pace, sliding in and out of you as they massaged each other’s tongues. You were far too busy moaning and mumbling out both their names you didn’t even pay attention to them. You just needed to feel that moment of bliss your body so desperately longed for.

Stephen cupped Newt’s cheek, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone as he growled deep into the kiss. He had made up his mind somewhere, that once he was done with you he’d be doing the same thing to his soldier.

“Fuck…” Stephen gasped against Newt’s mouth, shutting his eyes tightly as your walls clenched down around them both. Newt was in no better shape, and he panted out a curse as he came inside of you.

Your body shook with waves of ecstasy, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your orgasm began to wear off. You sagged back against Newt’s chest, his lips connecting with your sweaty forehead as he smiled.

“Good show, love.”

You giggled, looking back at him as he slowly pulled out of you. Stephen grinned at the younger man’s words, holding your hips gently as he did the same and slipped out.

The lieutenant was still very much in need of relief, but he didn’t press either of you for it. He laid back against the bed, smiling in his current state of bliss.

You looked down at him, noticing his length was still at attention, and you wanted him to reach that perfect high Newt and you already had. With a smirk, you tilted your head back, whispering something to the soldier that Stephen didn’t quite hear or pay attention to.

You lifted yourself up, untangling yourself from Newt’s arms as you straddled the lieutenant’s head. Stephen raised his eyebrow at you, lips lifting at the corner in amusement.

“What are you planning?

You grabbed the headboard in both hands, spreading your legs more and putting your sex on full display for Stephen to see.

“Come on, lieutenant…”

He chuckled at your needy nature, but he ran his hands up your thighs, getting a hold of your waist as he lifted his head. He opened his mouth, tongue coming out as he wasted no time in licking a path up your cunt.

Your nails dug into the headboard, head tilted back as he licked and lapped at your wet folds. Newt looked up at you, smiling when you winked down at him. He rose to his hands and knees, climbing down the bed and hovering just over Stephen’s lap. He glanced up at his superior, licking his lips before he leaned down.

Stephen sucked around your clit, pulling you down more onto his face as you rolled your hips above him. He hungrily buried his face into you, his cock only twitching with need. He was going to reach down and finish himself off, but he released your swollen clit from his lips and gasped out in pleasure.

His head fell onto the pillow, eyes staring up at you as Newt licked around the head of his length.

“Scamander what are-”

“Shh.”

You smiled down at Stephen, shushing away his slight discomfort as if to say you knew he wanted this. He simply chuckled, his laugh quickly turning into a drawn out moan as Newt hollowed his cheeks and sucked around him. Stephen closed his eyes, enjoying the heat of the younger man’s mouth around his cock. He gripped your waist once more, pulling you back down and continuing to eat you out. He growled into your heat, bucking his hips up into Newt’s mouth. He was growing closer by the minute, and he muffled as many moans of his as he could against your inner thighs, but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Newt definitely knew how to work his mouth.

The younger man pressed his tongue against the underside of Stephen’s length, his hand curling around him to stroke up and down. The feeling of both lips and hand was slowly drawing Stephen into a mess, and it wasn’t long before you came again, riding out your orgasm astride the lieutenant’s face. He lapped up your juices eagerly, making sure to completely get it all before he too succumbed to his desires.

Newt slid his lips off Stephen, swallowing his seed before wiping at his chin. He took his spot next to you both again, all of you completely spent and sweaty from your love session.

You stretched out on the bed, muscles beginning to relax as the endorphins rushed through them. You curled up next to Stephen, closing your eyes as sleep began to claim you.

The lieutenant kissed your temple, reaching over to the small desk he had and grabbing his cigarette and lighter. He lit the end of it, enjoying the long drag he took. He blew out the smoke, curling his arm around you and tapping Newt on the arm. The soldier looked down at Stephen’s hand, taking the cigarette that was being offered to him.

Newt placed it between his lips, letting it hang there for a second as he rose up and buttoned up his pants again. He slicked his hair back, grabbing his hat from the table and placing it back on his head. He took a quick puff of the cigarette, before handing it back to his superior, and bowing slightly.

“Sir.” He spoke up, giving his regards before heading towards the exit of the tent to get back to work. Stephen watched him go with a smile on his face, knowing he’d be coming around tonight again.


*****


Wowwwww that’s quite possibly the smuttiest shit I’ve written. Lol Ugh. I don’t even know if any of that made sense…..I was so confused half the time. If it did make sense and you liked it, let me know 😂

anonymous asked:

HELLO. I'M BACK. (Ok, this is only my second time requesting but that's ok.) It's the Anon who requested the Taehyung x reader that accidentally turned angsty. But it's ok! It was really good! Anyways, I'm back to request 2 + 69 with Jungkook if that's ok. (You two write so well)

Prompt request: “Are you kidding me right now!?” + “You have approximately 5 seconds to get out of my face before I kill you.”

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Humour + Fluff

Summary: You have a paper due in twenty minutes and it’s a stressful time. You prefer to work at the library, because your university’s computers run much faster than your cheap laptop. Unfortunately, someone else seems to appreciate the technology and appears to be playing League of Legends on your computer.

Word count: 945 words


You might have shed a few tears when you noticed you were missing a citation on your twenty-page paper that was due in twenty minutes. But you definitely did cry when you realized you referenced an actual book instead of a website.

Shooting up from your chair, you received a few concerned glances from the students around you. Paying them no mind, you darted to the second level of the library in an attempt to find the book you had read earlier that week.

As you wandered aimlessly through the shelves, you checked the time on your watch. You had fifteen minutes left. Cold sweat dripped down your back as you searched for the ancient history section.

Finally, you found the section (it was actually on the third floor) with twelve minutes left. If you recalled correctly, you were fairly certain that the book you referenced was red. And that was all you knew.

Your breathing quickened as you scanned the shelves, examining every red book in the section. Glancing briefly at your watch, you realized you only had seven minutes left. Returning to the task at hand with renewed vigour, you dove towards the nearest red book. Once you pulled it from the shelf, you finally recognized the cover.

“Thank god,” you practically sobbed. Clutching the book to your chest, you darted back the main level of the library, nearly tripping down the stairs as you went. An imaginary clocked ticked away in your head.

You reached your computer with four minutes to spare.

But there was a slight problem.

A boy was sitting at your computer, his large frame hunched towards the monitor. His fingers danced over the keyboard and he clicked the mouse furiously. He had a hood pulled over his mess of brown hair, and from what you could see, he was biting his lip as he focused on the screen in front of him.

And what was he so focused on? This boy was literally playing League of Legends on your computer.

“Are you kidding me right now!?” you shrieked, slamming the book onto the desk beside the boy. He jumped in surprise, eyes widening as he turned to look up at you.

“Uh, I can explain–”

You cut the boy off mid-sentence, grabbing him by the front of his hoodie.

“You have approximately 5 seconds to get out of my face before I kill you,” you hissed, feeling slightly frenzied due to your rapidly approaching deadline and a chronic lack of sleep.

The boy quickly shut off the game and jumped from the seat. He moved aside, eyes cast down. You didn’t bother sitting. Luckily, the boy hadn’t signed out of your account, so you pulled up your assignment. You grabbed your book and located the publication information and relevant page numbers as fast as you could.

In the end, you submitted your paper online with thirty seconds to spare.

When you turned to collect your belongings from where you had scattered them earlier, you were surprised to see that the League-playing boy was still there.

“Uh, I-I can explain that,” he stammered nervously, light pink dusting his cheeks. “But I just wanted to say sorry–I didn’t realize you had to submit a paper.”

You smiled, feeling a little bad for scaring the other student. Upon closer inspection, you realized he was quite good looking. He had large eyes, a strong nose, and a full lower lip, which was bright red from all the nervous biting.

“I’m not going to say it’s fine, because who the fuck plays League in the library?” you laughed, pleased to see the boy relax a little. “But I didn’t mean to freak out that much. Just…stressed, you know?”

“Who plays League–period,” the boy snorted, almost to himself. He looked somewhere else in the library, his expression pained. “My friends dared me to do that.”

You followed his line of vision, settling on two other boys who sat at another row of computers. They were laughing hard, receiving annoyed looks from the people around them. One of them had a wide, rectangular smile and the other had little crescent eyes.

You realized all these boys were ridiculously cute, and wondered if all good-looking people just automatically became friends. Eventually, you turned back to the offending boy, whose expression had become sour.

“I just have to say one more thing before I leave,” the boy said with a long-suffering sigh. He met your eyes, inhaling slowly and blushing even more. “W-wanna come back to my base and check out my Needlessly Large Rod?”

You stared up, wide-eyed, at the boy in front of you. In the distance, you could hear the sound of unrestrained laughter. The boy covered his face with his hands, and after a moment of shock, you burst out laughing.

Tears streaked down your cheeks as you laughed uncontrollably. You wiped them away hastily as the boy glanced back at you, surprised. Eventually, you were able to compose yourself.

“Wow, I’m swooning,” you giggled. After a week of stress, you finally felt the tension slipping away.

“Thanks,” the boy cringed. He glanced at his friends and then back at you. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. Sorry we had to meet like this.”

“I’m Y/N,” you replied with an easy smile. “And it’s fine. You left quite an impression.”


A few weeks later, you were dragged to your university’s video game club’s weekly meeting. It turned out that Jungkook and his two friends (who later introduced themselves as Jimin and Taehyung) made up the club’s executive team.

That day, Jungkook asked you out with another lame League of Legends inspired pick-up line.

You accepted his proposition without a second thought.

- Girl in Luv

Oh my GOD I HATE MYSELF. Why do I always reference lame ass things? Is LoL even relevant anymore?? Anyway…thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed! Our requests are still open, so check out our prompts page if you’re interested! Happy reading~

Nemesis Mine

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5. Simon.

It’s getting late, and I’m tired and desperate to go home. Baz has been acting quiet and sullen all day, and I want to check on him and make sure everything’s okay. I’ve been flying around all afternoon saving kids from drowning in lakes and rescuing hikers trapped in the forest and I even flew someone’s cat down from a tree. Sometimes being a superhero is a lot less exciting than people might think.

I’m almost back to the Watford campus when I see a group of people outside a bar that I immediately get a bad feeling about. I fly lower and land on the roof. There’s a group of tough-looking men and women who have someone cornered by the back door. My tail starts swishing behind me and I’m about to leap into the fray when I hear shouts and the sound of pounding feet.

A girl has broken out of the group and is running for her life, blonde hair swinging behind her. She’s clutching something that I realise must be pepper spray. She’s wearing heels and a dress that I suddenly recognise – it’s Agatha.

One of the men has started chasing her. I leap down from the building but before I even make it to the ground, a blurry shape rushes past me and seems to collide with him. There’s a brief scuffle and then the guy is lying on the ground, unconscious.

I catch a glimpse of him before he goes after the rest of the group. Basilton Pitch. Of course, this kind of thing is usually his job. I leave him to it and fly after Agatha.

‘Agatha –’ Shit. I almost forgot that she doesn’t know it’s me. And if Basilton heard me call her by name, he might be able to figure out who I am. I can’t let him have the upper hand.

I don’t know whether or not she heard me, but she only runs faster, which finally makes her trip over her heels and fall on her face (I’m surprised she ran so fast in those things). I land next to her.

‘It’s just me,’ I say, bending to help her up.

She looks relieved. ‘Snow. Great. Thank you.’ She throws a panicked glance over her shoulder, still breathing hard.

We both get a shock when Basilton suddenly appears in front of us.

‘Are you hurt?’ he says to her, his voice icy cold.

‘I’ve got it under control,’ I butt in.

‘I wasn’t talking to you, Snow,’ he growls.

‘I’m fine,’ Agatha says. ‘Just shaken.’

He nods curtly and starts to walk away.

‘Hey,’ I call, ‘where are you going?’

‘She says she’s fine,’ he says without turning around.

‘Your job isn’t done! Aren’t you going to make sure she actually gets home safely?’

He stops walking and turns around with a sigh. ‘Why would she need me when she has the great heroic Snow?’

‘But it’s your job,’ I say stubbornly. Why is he acting like such a villain? He usually at least pretends to care about anyone he rescues.

‘Why are you even here, then?’

‘I was just in the area.’ Fuck, now he’ll know I live nearby. ‘There was an incident. With a cat. Near here.’

‘Right,’ he says, the scorn heavy in his voice. ‘A cat. So that’s what the mighty and revered superhero does with his time.’

My tail is twitching behind me. It does that when I’m agitated. Of course Basilton notices.

‘Are you going to strangle me with that tail of yours?’ he taunts. ‘Or are you going to fly up and drop me off a building, like your father did to my –’

I slam into him (as if I’m responsible for my father’s actions) and try to punch him in the jaw (it was an accident, why can’t he accept that, of course Davy didn’t mean to) and he ducks out of the way (I’m so tired of him taking everything out on me and it’s not like he hasn’t killed people too). We’re circling each other in the middle of a deserted alleyway.

‘Go on,’ he says. ‘Don’t you have better things to do than fight me?’

I’m seeing red, and I want to tell him that he’s a villain and that makes it my job to fight him, but I remember Agatha watching us and tell myself to calm down. Agatha’s my friend. I don’t want her to see this, even if she doesn’t know that it’s me.

‘Fine,’ I spit. ‘I’ll make sure she’s safe, since you don’t seem to care.’

He shakes his head. ‘This isn’t over.’

‘It’s never over, is it, nemesis mine.’ (It pisses him off when I call him that, which is the only reason why I do it.) I turn around and walk back to Agatha, who’s been watching us with barely concealed curiosity. And possibly some contempt.

‘I can get home by myself,’ she says to me.

‘I know. I’m going the same way.’

‘How do you know where I’m going?’

I shrug. ‘Just a gut feeling.’

*

I shed my disguise on the roof of the building as usual and make my way down to room 61. At least I escaped without any injuries this time, so Baz won’t ask any questions.

I try to get back into my regular uni student Simon headspace before going into the room. I remember last night, when I fell asleep on Baz’s bed and he tucked me in and we swapped beds for the night. I remember sitting right up close to him as we watched the movies. I can’t remember what either movie was about, I was too busy noticing how it felt to have him so close to me. Too busy imagining all the different ways he might react if I leaned over and kissed his cheek, or if I reached over and started playing with his hair, or if I laced our fingers together.

I didn’t do any of those things, obviously. But I want to. I want to do more than that. Today though, in all the classes we shared and in the afternoon, he was withdrawn. He barely spoke to me unless I spoke to him first. I wonder if he regrets sleeping in my bed last night. If he thinks we crossed a line that he didn’t want us to cross.

I take a deep breath before turning my key in the lock and shoving open the door. Baz is on his bed fiddling with his phone. He doesn’t look up when I come in.

‘Where were you?’ he asks.

‘I – um – with Agatha,’ I blurt. (It’s technically true.)

His face remains expressionless. ‘I see,’ he says.

I sit on the edge of my bed, facing him.

‘Is everything okay?’ I ask.

He looks up and raises an eyebrow. ‘Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?’

‘It’s just…’ I frown. ‘You’re being distant.’

‘Am I?’

‘If it’s about yesterday…’

‘Yesterday?’

I roll my eyes. ‘Come on, Baz. You know. Me sleeping in your bed.’ I’m probably blushing. Fuck. He must know how I feel.

‘It wasn’t a big deal, Simon,’ he says.

‘Okay.’

‘You said you were fine with it,’ he says, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

‘I – I was,’ I stammer. ‘I am.’

‘What’s the problem, then?’ He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Is this because you were with Agatha? Because it’s not like we –’

Oh. Oh. Agatha. My ex.

‘No,’ I blurt out, cutting him off. ‘I mean, I wasn’t with Agatha, not like… you know. We’re just friends. I mean, it’s been months, and we’re really close, but we’re definitely – we’re just friends.’

He waits for me to stop rambling. ‘Sure, Simon,’ he says. ‘And you’re okay with that?’

‘Yeah, I’m – yeah, totally,’ I say. I rub my hand over my eyes. ‘I mean, I’m not interested in Agatha anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.’ I hesitate, biting my lip. ‘I’m actually – I might be interested in someone else.’

I peek up at him and – he’s smiling, this tiny, private smile like he’s trying not to let me see it, but I do see it, and I want to walk over there and kiss it off his lips. Instead, I blush madly, grab my pyjamas and rush out the door.

anonymous asked:

Prompt idea: Cute Rucas napping fluff

a/n: thank you so much for the prompt anon!! sorry it took so long to get to you, i was working on another one before this one and then this took me a little longer than anticipated. as requested this is extremely extremely fluffy and i’ll have you know anon, that this lowkey killed me and i’m now blogging from rucas heaven. enjoy! 

word count: 1,398

“I can’t believe you almost fell asleep in my dad’s class.” Riley says, disbelief laced in her tone as she enters her bedroom and dumps her backpack on her desk chair.

“I’m more surprised that he didn’t embarrass me in front of the entire class, that seems to be a favorite pastime of his.” Riley rolls her eyes at her boyfriend’s comment as he follows her lead, entering her bedroom and putting his backpack down on the floor at the foot of her bed. “It’s all your fault you know.”

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jack-outside-thebox  asked:

Ok but like being too scared to actually say I love you to H cause I'm personally terrified of falling in love and being in a relationship and h doesn't wanna make you uncomfortable and understands your point so instead y'all say a code word to each other that means I love you like kiwi or something

OKAY FIRST OF ALL DID I GHOST WRITE THIS? I’m horrible at showing affection, especially at saying I Love You, so how come I never thought of doing this? (NO LIE, MIGHT USE THIS IDEA FOR FUTURE FIC IDEA AND I’LL BE SURE TO GIVE YOU CREDIT IF I DO)

The first time he says it, it catches you off guard, but he doesn’t take your silence as a determent. “Don’t say it now, it you don’t know…” His words trail off, and you study him as he eyes dart aimlessly around the room. “If you don’t know right now. Just want you to know where I am.”

And it was as simple as that. He loves you, that’s a fact, but the deafening silence over the following months felt like they were going to swallow him whole.

You showed your love in many ways: cooking him dinner after a stressful meeting, listening to him rant about a fan encounter gone wrong, your body leant against yours on the couch as you raked your nails against his scalp, surprising him with a well-needed coffee after a late night writing session followed by an early morning meeting, watching from the audience his first show, being the first person he sees when he walks off the stage, constantly giving him your full support no matter what, and you standing by his side through the good and the bad.

None of that has gone unnoticed to him, and he knows you have to feel something if that means you take every brick thrown at you like a soft punch to the arm. If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t be near tears after he has to ask you, “Do you not love me?”

It’s not come easy to you, at least not as easy as others make it out to be, but those three words feel…awkward leaving your mouth. Foreign. Even on the off chance you do let them slip out to a friend or a family member, it doesn’t make it any less true, even if the words come out in some jumble that neither of you can truly understand.

“I do,” you say back, and the wall of confidence he’s built himself to even ask you such a question quickly crumbles, and not only does he feel like an asshole for making you cry, he’s quick to realize there’s something else you’ve held back for the past six months. “I do, I love…”

“Don’t say it if you don’t—“

“I do! Christ, I’m here fighting for you, aren’t I? I love you; I just hate the damn word.”

The sudden outburst sends him taking a step back, but you hold your ground as you fold your arms across your chest and let out a huff.

“I’m shit at emotions,” you start, “I’m shit at opening myself up like that to people, but don’t think for a second I don’t love you.”

He expected the first time those words to escape your mouth would be during a cheesy romance movie he set up for the two of you, or when you two were making love, or after he’s dropped you off from a date, but no – it’s standing in your kitchen, wearing a pair of basketball shorts and an old Stones shirt, only a half hour before he decided tossing and turning in bed wasn’t going to solve anything, and going straight to the source for an answer… even if it was after midnight and you were still groggy from sleep.

“I’m sorry,” be begins, you but you instantly shut him down.

“Don’t. Should have told you a long time ago. I’m sorry.”

Silence fills the space between you, and he’s the first one to take that step forward to bring you into his arms, and slowly feel that tough façade of yours fade away.

“Kiwi,” you whisper in your ear, and it’s not but a second later you hear a chuckle erupt beside your ear.

“Pardon?”

“It’s what my friend and I say to each other, like a codeword. It’s my ‘I love you’… I just thought you’d think it was weird.”

He’s silent for a moment, but when he presses his lips to your cheek and keeps you pressed firmly to him, he whispers back into your ear, “Well, Kiwi too.”

You burst into laughter and shake your head. “No, no, that’s not—”

“Nope! It’s been said! It stays!”

anonymous asked:

What about RFA+Saeran+V with a MC that's learning a new language (any) and has been studying for days due to an upcoming exam. This is me rn and I kinda need a little motivation to keep going🇩🇪. Gimme some love pls it's 4 am and I'm still studying lol 💕 Love your blog 💞

Oh my, I hope you were able to get at least a 2-hour nap before your exam, anon-san! Learning new languages is really tough, especially if the grammar construction is different and there are things like a dozen forms of speech in it!


I only did Jaehee, Jumin, and Seven for now because I ran out of ideas;;;

I’m sorry! 人(_ _*)


This is super duper late (I wanted to do it sooner too, but I couldn’t make it in time… ;;;;), but I hope you passed your exams!

~Nao


MC and language exams

Jaehee

  • You only knew enough Korean to get by.
  • But everything you knew was from binge-watching Korean dramas and self-study.
  • You wanted to challenge yourself, so you applied to take the Test of Proficiency in Korean (TOPIK).
  • You had no problem with grammar construction and remembering greetings, but remembering when to use formal and informal forms were very confusing for you.
  • Jaehee had been watching you go at it for days now, and had been trying to support you by bringing you some food to snack on while studying.
  • But you were almost falling asleep on top of your books
  • She decided enough was enough
  • “But Jaehee, I’m quite certain I’m getting it now, so…“
  • “I understand your dilemma MC, but I think it would be counterproductive if you force yourself to study even when you’re tired.“
  • She has a point
  • So you follow her to bed, but you were still worried that you couldn’t sleep
  • “MC, I know you might still be anxious right now, so how about this: try to get some sleep now and then I’ll help you with studying starting tomorrow, okay?“
  • Just the thought of having Jaehee helping you study calms you down
  • You are able to fall asleep, with your head on her bosom and arms wrapped tightly around her waist.


Jumin

  • German. Why had you chosen German as one of your minor subjects?
  • For one, it was interesting. Secondly… it was intersting. //lmao shoot me now, I’m sorry
  • But your professor that sem was really scary and had super high standards
  • There was also one time when he embarrassed you in front of the whole class, but you didn’t tell Jumin about it
  • You hated it when people underestimate you, so you worked hard on getting good grades in his subject
  • There was this pre-final long test that he warned about being really hard, and you wanted to get a good score for it
  • But he didn’t give out pointers until a week before, so you had to grind
  • However, it also meant that you were losing sleep for the past few days
  • Jumin points this out during dinner one day, and you ‘fess up just as easily because the stress was already getting to you
  • “I see. But it wouldn’t do you good to stress over it, so I’m forbidding you to study tonight.“
  • “But… but Jumin…“
  • “Instead, I’m going to personally tutor you starting tomorrow.“
  • You dropped your glass and your mouth hung open for a few seconds as your mind tried to process what he just said
  • Jumin? Tutor you?
  • You knew the guy was proficient in many languages, but you didn’t want to add to his busy workload
  • “It’s no problem, MC. If I help you study, we can spend more time together, right? I don’t like it when you ignore me just because you need to impress your professor. I want you to only look at me.“
  • Jealous and possessive Jumin is sexy Jumin
  • So you spend the next few nights studying with him after dinner
  • Jumin was a surprisingly good teacher, and all his explanations for the grammar and usage were relatively easy to understand
  • You came home from school exhausted but relieved after the test ended, and you found him waiting for you with a bouquet of flowers
  • “I messaged you earlier asking you how you did on your exam, but I didn’t get a response, so I went home early to wait for you instead.“
  • You are so touched by his gesture that you dropped your bag and embraced him tightly.
  • “I’m not really sure how well I did until I see the results, but I think I was able to answer most of it with ease. Thank you for your help, Jumin.“
  • Hugging you back, he leans his head on yours
  • “It wasn’t just because of me, MC. I merely lent a hand, but you did most of the work. I knew you could do it.“


707

  • There were only three days till your Japanese Language Proficiency Test (JLPT).
  • You have been studying a couple of weeks before, but your weakest point was the listening section.
  • You’ve gone as far as having your headphones on while sleeping, but it only bothered you and you kept on having weird dreams about Japanese-speaking vegetables the whole time.
  • Saeyoung walks in on you crying about Totoro and Howl and talking eggplants, and how you don’t want to have a retake anymore.
  • He can’t help but laugh at some of the things you were saying in all three languages.
  • “I think you need to stop for a bit and relax, MC“
  • “But-but the exams are coming up, and I’m still getting low points for the listening section on the mock tests!“
  • “You silly. You could’ve just asked me to help you with that, MC!“
  • He knows too many languages for his own good
  • Will carry you to bed on the spot whether you like it or not
  • He keeps you from studying any further, but conversations in the next three days were in the polite form, or he doesn’t respond to you.
  • You got so used to hearing Japanese that you found the listening section to be too easy on exam day
  • He treats you to pizza and movie night after exams, but you were too exhausted to watch the movie and ended up falling asleep beside him.
  • He looks lovingly at you and tucks a loose strand of hair and kisses your forehead.
  • “You worked really hard, MC. I’m so proud of you.“
Tell it to the Marines AU - The Nanny [Part 1]

Just a little thing I thought up the other night, none of this is TittM canon in the least. (Unless @tsume-yuki says so, of course)

Ace wasn’t too sure about this.

Pops had been the one to suggest it. To take Riskua to an island deep within Whitebeard territory in the New World, a guarded place where she could birth their child in safety. A haven where several of his brothers and sisters kept children of their own, protected by the island’s guardian.

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anonymous asked:

So I just got back from my concert and now I'm exhausted so can I regrets some fluffy stuff where f!mu is tired and takumi helps her get to sleep?

(Want to change the name? Use this!

Takumi knew you were exhausted long before you did. You were sluggish from training in the morning to eating, that night. It took a trained eye to notice, as you were skilled at hiding your tiredness from concerned allies.

He was sitting in the middle of the room, waiting for you. The sun was down, and he considered heading out to find you. It was possible you’d gone off to help finish a task, or you were working in your office, late (again).

It was when he got up to find you that the door cracked open. Sure enough you came trudging through the doorway. Takumi looked at you expectantly, thinking you’d acknowledge him. Instead you started taking off armor, not even glancing at the warrior sitting in the middle of your room.

“…A little late to be coming to bed, isn’t it?” He finally spoke, the bite of impatience in his tone making you jump. You swiveled around with wide eyes, finding your husband glaring up at you.

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Skin to Skin

Part 2

Jughead Jones doesn’t know how the crimson crescents ended up on his palms.


Betty Cooper is clueless when it comes to the messages on her arms.


Soulmate AU where all the little marks and injuries belonging to Betty and Jughead start finding themselves on each other’s skin.

A/N: Here’s part two! as you can see, I write Jughead’s point of view and then Betty’s at one go, so I usually post two chapters together. Thank you for all your support!


Part 1
Link on ao3

Chapter iii

Jughead shoves his keys into the lock of his apartment door and enters, a bag of groceries in in hand. Don’t get him wrong, he can’t cook, but there’s only so much ramen and takeout he can endure.

Although, he can make a mean sandwich, but that can’t really be called cooking, can it?

He’s exhausted. Working at B&N might seem easy, but he was on re-stocking duty today, which meant hauling cartons of books to and fro. In addition to dealing with self-entitled middle aged adults.

Plus, he contract of his book was finally signed today, which meant that he was getting an advance of maybe fifteen thousand dollars, which was a freaking lot. He could quit his job and get a library at home.

But then, his mind drifts to hospital bills, student loans and debts to pay off, so he temporarily forgets that idea.

He dumps his groceries on the tiny kitchen counter and unpacks them with slow movements; he’s tired, but he can’t go the sleep unless he’s eaten. His stomach will not let him.

He takes out some shredded chicken, lettuce, a tomato and mayo- simple, yet so, so tasty.

Yes, Jughead is very easy to impress if one’s talking about food.

He slices his bread (He loves the type with seeds in it, Archie thinks he’s crazy,), spreads mayo over it, and moves to slice the tomato. He vaguely remembers an article he’d read awhile back about a legal battle over a tomato. 1887, was it?

Jughead suddenly yawns; he’s dreaming of his bed, but his stomach is protesting, and all of a sudden, the knife slips and slices his thumb, instead.

“Shit,” He says, shaking his hand, which only results in a little blood behind splattered on the wall plaster.

He runs to the sink and turns on the tap, watching the cut bleed as cold water falls on it. Eventually, after, say, five minutes, it clots up and the bleeding stops.

He needs to find a band-aid, as soon as possible, so he rummaged through some cluttered cupboards to find one. There’s an old Hello Kitty one he finds, which he remembers getting free with some snacks, but it’s the only band-aid he can find. So he puts it on.

He won’t ever admit it, but blood makes him slightly queasy.

He makes himself a cup of coffee as well, and goes back to finishing his sandwich.

Unfortunately, the tomato’s covered with a dark red liquid that is not tomato juice, and he’s forced to ditch that part. He’s too lazy to take out another one.

Finally, he settles down on his battered couch, switches Netflix on and savours the blessing that is shredded chicken and mayo.

Jughead rewatches three episodes of  Black Mirror, his favourite ones. He doesn’t may too much attention to them, though, as his mind wanders to all the things he has to do.

He considers going to bed; but his phone starts dinging. JB is calling on FaceTime.

“Hey, JB.” He answers.

JB is sobbing, and Jughead’s alarms start blaring. He brings the phone closer.

“What happened, Jelly?”

“Dad… He’s been arrested. Again.”

Shit. Oh no.

“Over what?” He asks, biting his lip.

“He’s been accused of involvement in murder.” JB hiccups, wiping away tears from her face.

This hasn’t been FP Jones’s first stint in jail. Hell, even Jughead’s spent some time in Juvie. This family is screwed up.

But murder? It’s never gone that far. FP was the leader of a gang, called the Southside Serpents, back in his hometown of Toledo, which meant getting involved in shady business, behind-the-dumpster type of weed exchanges, and whatnot, but it’s never been this bad.

“Tell me everything, Jelly.” He sighs, mind already scanning through possible ways to help his dad.

He learns that FP’s home was ransacked, that very night, to find incriminating evidence of the murder of a sophomore in Toledo High. The Sheriff had received an anonymous tip-off, and they’d found a gun in FP’s tiny trailer.

FP had been dragged to the station and questioned.

The worst part was, he’d confessed.

“I don’t think he did it, Jug.” Jellybean whispers later. “I know. He owned up to it… But I know he hasn’t done it. I just know, okay?”

“Jelly… I'm​ not sure. He did confess.” Jughead’s eyes are misting up. “I know he’d cleaned up his act for a bit, but if he’s confessed, then I don’t know what to believe.”

JB shakes her head. “Jughead, I’m going to have faith. I will. I know daddy, and he isn’t capable of- of murder.”

All Jughead wants to do is give her a hug.

“I’m going to come home.” He says, opening a new tab to book bus tickets.

“NO!”

He startles at that, and shifts the tab back to FaceTime. “Why not?”

“Jughead, your book is being published. You have meetings to attend, covers to decide, edits to make. You cannot simply put all of that in hold to come over here. It’s your debut book. Your first book!” Jellybean says, throwing her hands up in the air. Her black sheet of hair whips around.

Jughead’s not convinced. “I could do all of that from there, JB. Face to face meetings are almost redundant with the invention and development of technology. How am I talking to you right now?”

Jellybean just shakes her head. “No. I won’t let you come.”

“JB, are you hiding something else?” He knows when his sister is keeping something under wraps. She’s a terrible liar, just like him.

His sister stays silent, evidently trying to think up of another reason why he shouldn’t come.

“Jellybean.”

“Okay,” she caves, shoulders slumping. “Jughead, you know that I love you, right? Dad loves you, too and so does Mom, even if they have weird-ass ways of showing it?”

Jughead nods, eyebrows scrunching up together in confusion.

“And I didn’t want to tell you, because you’d get hurt, but…”

His sister is stalling too much, and Jughead gets impatient​.

“Jellybean, what happened?” He says, curtly. His thumb is still throbbing, and he watches Jellybean sigh and wring her hands together.

“Mom… said she never wants you back. She, well, she thinks you remind her too much of Dad.”

“Oh.”

Jughead’s fingers trace the scabs of the fingernail imprints on his palm, processing this information.

“Also, Jug, she still kinda, um, resents you because you chose to stay with Dad, all those years ago, instead of coming with her.”

He stays silent this time, not making eye contact with JB, and unseeingly staring at his palms.

Gladys Jones and Jughead Jones never really had a great relationship, if he was being truthful. It was his Dad that Jughead often went to.

FP Jones had been an alcoholic for most of Jug’s childhood. The boy grew up watching his father drown out his sorrows one bottle after another, and witnessed it only get worse when Jughead got put into juvie for attempted arson at ten and JB was hospitalised for her kidney at six.

But despite that, Jughead always saw the good in his father. He may not always try, but Jughead had faith in the older man. So much, that he stayed behind with FP when Gladys Jones had had enough, taking JB with her.

But during that time, FP showed no attempt at righting his wrongs, and if anything, he got worse. He had been perpetually drunk, and eventually, even Jughead reached his limit.

So he’d moved out, braving homelessness for about six months. When his best mate, Archie, found out, he’d hosted Jughead on his couch for a few weeks, but the brunet hadn’t wanted to overstay his welcome.

Finally, FP had gotten his act back together, and Jughead had moved back in.

When he shifted to New York, though, FP kind of lost it again and got himself arrested for minor transgressions. He’d had been able to bail himself out each time, but a murder accusation was not something you could easily escape from.

But his mom, well, he’d never been that close to. Yes, he’d inherited his Mom’s skill in writing, sense of humour, and some of her facial features, maybe, but that was where the similarities ended.

But not wanting him back at all… that was harsh.

“Jug?” Jellybean whispers.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, wanting to change the topic. “So I’m getting my book advance soon, I could send the money over if it helps with getting a good lawyer, or something.”

“Jug, you don’t need to…” JB starts.

“No, no, it’s okay.” he puts his hand on his forehead, like he’s trying to recall something. “They’ll assign him one, but if we want the court to think he’s innocent.. We’ll need a good lawyer.”

“Which will be easy, because he is innocent.” JB says, stubborn as ever, just like him.

Jughead runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Remember when you used to wear that beanie everywhere?” Jellybean breaks the silence. “Even when you were seventeen?” She sniffs, laughing at the same time.

“Yeah,” He smiles. “I still wear it sometimes.”

“Well, you’ll get all the girls if you don’t Jug. They appreciate a nice, good, mop of hair. Coupled with the leather jacket I gave you, maybe some girl is currently fawning over you.”

Jughead blushes. “No girlfriends at all, JB, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No boyfriends either?”

“No, considering that I’m not into guys…” Jughead says, fighting back both a yawn and a smile.

“Oh, well.” Jellybean says, and then pauses. “Listen, Jug, don’t forget that I love you, okay? Despite what Mom says, she loves you too.”

Jughead nods. “I know,” he says, simply. “I’ve gotta go sleep, it’s 2 am, JB, and so should you. Don’t you have school tommorow?”

“I’m not going.” She says. “I’ll help where I can with dad.”

“Okay,” He says. “Call me if and when you need anything. I’ll be there, okay?”

“I will.” JB replies, and Jughead moves to end the call. “Nice band-aid, bro.”

He grins and switches his phone off.

He gets under the covers, after completing his bedtime routine and closes his eyes, drifting off into a slumber.

The whole time, he traces the crescent marks on his palm.

Chapter iv

When the alarm clock blares, Betty Cooper does something incredibly rare- she doesn’t snooze it, and instead, actually gets up.

She was going to go to the gym before her shift, on the insistence of Alice Cooper.

Her mother. Betty hasn’t spoken to her since Monday, three days ago, after she’d slammed her laptop shut. She’d ignored all of Alice’s calls, FaceTime requests, and messages, and maybe Betty is running the risk of being cut off. But if and when that happens, she’ll deal with it.

And skipping a day of gym won’t do her any harm.

She sits up, stretching her arms above her head and yawning- she got a good night’s sleep, for the first time in weeks. Tying back her hair, after smoothing down her bedhead, she puts her legs over the side and slips her feet into slippers.

She notices a blood stain on the sheets- and for a moments, she’s afraid she got her period way too early.

But the stain is towards the headboard, and her thumb also happens to be covered in the dark red liquid, which has now dried.

Betty moves towards her bathroom and washed the crusty blood away- only to reveal a cut. It’s pretty long, and deep enough to cause more bleeding than usual.

She’s utterly bewildered. Betty’s not a clumsy person, and considering the fact that she would remember cutting herself like this…

What if it’s a repeat of the random message written on her arm three days ago?

Perhaps it happened when she was sleeping. Yeah, that’s the most plausible solution.

She walks back to her bed, inspecting her bedside table for any such sharp object which could be the cause. There’s a letter opener on the table, but Betty hasn’t touched that in weeks. She’d just forgot to put it back in the stationary drawer.

Her phone back-up alarm blares, and she jumps. Her shift at Starbucks starts in forty-five minutes, and she needs to get ready.

Maybe she’s just making a big deal out of this, she thinks, as she showers and puts a band-aid on the cut. Maybe she was too sleepy yesterday to notice.

Donning her Starbucks uniform and tying her hair in a loose ponytail, unlike her highschool days, she locks her apartment door behind her and sets off to work.

She enjoys working as a barista. Sure, sometimes she wants to throw something at anyone who orders another unicorn frappuccino, but she likes the borderline banal and mundane work- it gives her time to think.

She clocks in, puts her apron on and begins her shift. With this job, she ends up smelling like coffee all the time, but it’s not something she particularly minds.

A brunette comes in, with two toddler twins in tow- they’re noisy, but admittedly adorable, and Betty is reminded of her sister’s kids. Eliza and Cliff.

Polly Cooper eloped when she was in high school- got pregnant in her junior year, and had the babies in her senior year. The special man, and now Betty’s brother in law, was Jason Blossom- the son of Clifford Blossom, who owned an incredibly successful maple syrup business in Vancouver. Jason was set to inherit this giant empire, along with his sister, Cheryl, and so they, along with Polly and the kids, were moving up there this fall. Therefore, Betty had limited time to spend with her niece, nephew and sister.

Having eloped at seventeen, Polly was almost disowned by Alice Cooper and Hal Cooper. They’d almost sent her away to a house- ‘The Sisters of Quiet Mercy’, when they found out that she was expecting. Polly almost ran away with Jason, they almost drowned in Sweetwater river, and basically, the Cooper family was a shitstorm during that particular period of time. It was a soap opera, worthy of the silver screens.

But, eventually Alice Cooper gave into her soft side once the babies were born- and they were the cutest little things. They still are, Betty thinks, smiling as she prepares the machiatto that the woman has ordered.

But of course, Polly’s mistakes only put pressure onto Betty to up her game and be perfect. Which is why Betty wasn’t allowed to have boyfriends in high school (not that she didn’t, behind their backs).

She was also put on birth control and performance enhancing medication, which, in Betty’s opinion, was excessive, unnecessary and too much. But no one says no to Alice Cooper.

Well, except Betty, after Monday’s debacle.

The thing is, Betty still has nightmares. She’s always afraid of failing, she’s always afraid that she won’t be successful in life- her mother has turned her into a two dimensional human being who only worries about being perfect.

Which she definitely did not want to be. She’s grown to detest that word.

She puts a fake smile onto her face and hands an espresso to a teenager.

At least now she has more time on her hands, after quitting. She’s put in a lot more hours into studying these past few days, and she’ll do well this term. She knows it.

Being a journalist is something Betty’s always wanted to be, since she was a pre-schooler. She watched her parents in their office when she was little, and always eagerly awaited the day she would write her first article.

That day came when she was fifteen. She’d reopened her school’s newspaper- the Junipero High Herald, and she’d taken over it, writing exposes about all the minor scams that went in in her school.

That newspaper helped her get into this journalism course here at NYU. At least here mom didn’t interfere here.

Betty realises she has a lot of mommy issues.

Her attention snaps back into reality when someone comes up to the counter.

“One Cafe Americano, no sugar, please. To go.” He says, glancing down at his phone. He’s tapping his foot, biting his lip. He’s in a hurry.

The first thing Betty notices is the Hello-Kitty band-aid on his thumb, and fights back a grin.

“Love the choice of band-aid there,” she says, punching in his order.  

He grins. “Thank you, I happen to have a thing for anthropomorphic beings.” He says, shoving his phone in his pocket. He nods his head towards Betty’s thumb. “ I see you have a band-aid, too, but so boring.”

“Well, not all of us have Hello-Kitty or disney themed band-aids at hand.” Betty says, picking up a marker. “So, what is your name, oh Sanrio stan?”

Jughead chuckles. “Jughead.”

Betty audibly laughs. “Are you serious? Are you one of those people who come in and tell me their name is Voldemort or Primrose Everdeen, or something?”

‘Jughead’ shakes his head and runs a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “Completely authentic, don’t worry.”

“Alright, then, Jughead,” Betty says, jotting his name down on on plastic cup. “Coming right up.”

Her eyes follow him as he moves to the side and wait for his order, eyes glued to his phone, an iPhone 3, which Betty hasn’t seen in years.

His name, by far, is the weirdest one she’s ever had to write.

She gets his coffee ready and calls out his name- saying it with a lilt in her voice, her blatant amusement on show.

He takes it from her with a thankful smile, and Betty notices the marks on his palm. Tiny arcs pepper both his hands- they’re fingernail marks, and if there’s anyone who knows them well, it’s her.

Maybe she stares at them for longer than necessary.

Betty Cooper thinks of her own fists, scarred by her own fingernails. She keeps her fingernails short, but yet she manages to hurt herself. She hates herself for doing it, because the aim to be perfect has been ingrained in her, and this is a weakness.

But, doesn’t she hate ‘perfect’?

Still, her fists curl against her own volition when she’s sad, angry, hurting, and Betty Cooper feels a wave of sadness for this man in front of her. She wants to help him, so that maybe, just maybe, she can help herself.

But, before she knows it, he’s gone, lost in the sea of people, indistinguishable amongst thousands of others.

lukewarmravensinatub  asked:

klance - "Hey, look at me. I'm right here. I won't-- I'll never leave." And/or Adrinette - "Marinette, I'm not going to lie. I really hate this movie."

Originally posted by radiategold

One sad thing, one happy thing - seems good to me!

Side note why must I always torture Lance


           “Hey, look at me. I’m right here. I won’t— I’ll never leave.” Keith cradled Lance’s face in his hands so gently he might have been holding the most precious and delicate glass sculpture in the world, terrified of the slightest pressure cracking it or shattering it all together. His palms cupped his jaw, thumbs brushing lightly against his cheekbones. “I’m going to stay with you, you hear?” His voice cracked on a sob, and he swallowed, desperate to sound calm. “I am going to stay with you until we’re both old and gray and the Galra Empire hasn’t existed for years and years and years and we’ve retired peacefully back on Earth. I am going to stay by your side so long you’ll get utterly sick of me. I am going to stay by your side until I have memorized every single line and curve of your face and I could draw it in my sleep.” Lance watched him, tears streaking down his face.

           “Why, though?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t need me. No one needs me.” He glanced sideways, to where the wormhole glowed, a gaping hole in space, beckoning him. “I’m the best one to do this and you know it. Now that we got Shiro back, you can go back to piloting Red, and Allura should stay with Blue. There’s no place for me in Voltron anymore.” Lance breathed in sharply, looking up, tilting his head as if trying to force the tears back in. “This is the best way to take out Lotor. Let me be useful just this once.”

           “Would you shut up about being useful?” Keith shouted, his hands tightening on Lance’s face. Lance knocked his hands away, suddenly angry.

           “Why? That’s what I’ve heard all my life. Useless, useless, useless. Useless as a pilot, useless as a teammate, I’m even useless at being a big brother since I disappeared off the face of the Earth without a word to my family. I’m use—” His words were cut off as Keith grabbed his shoulders, pulled him close, and pressed his lips to Lance’s in a kiss. Lance jumped back, staring, breathing hard.

           “I don’t give a fuck,” Keith said. “Lance, you’re the first person who’s made me want to stay anywhere. So please, please— Can you please stay for me?” Lance stared at him, wide-eyed, and slowly came back closer, took Keith’s hand, and kissed him, long, soft, and gently. Keith melted under the kiss, the feel of Lance’s lips on his undoing knots of tension in his chest that had been there for years. His eyes slipped closed, his hand caught Lance’s hip, trying to pull him closer – but instead, Lance whispered, “I’m sorry,” and slipped away. When Keith’s eyes flew open, he was already gone.


           “Marinette, I’m not going to lie. I really hate this movie.” Marinette groaned and buried her face in her hands, bent all the way down to her knees.

           “I know, it’s awful,” she groaned. “I’m so sorry, Adrien, this was a choirrible hoice— I mean, a chorrice hibble— I mean a horrible choice,” she stuttered, getting redder with every flubbed word. Adrien reached out and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

           “Hey, everyone was raving about it, you couldn’t have known,” he whispered. He laughed under his breath. “I’m just relieved you hate it too,” he said. Someone in the row behind them shushed him. He glanced around, and then leaned down closer to whisper, “Do you want to just… walk out?” he asked. Marinette gave a tiny nod. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her gently to her feet. The two of them shuffled out of their seats and hurried up the dark aisle of the cinema and out into the atrium, past a bored-looking ticket vendor, and out into the sunlight, where they both squinted and gasped in relief.

           “Oh my God, what does everyone see in that film?” Adrien asked. “We spent like four scenes watching her complain about her boyfriend only to immediately dismiss all of her concerns because he texted her a heart. That was so dumb, what does everyone see in it?”

           “I know!” Marinette exclaimed. “And the guy – what on Earth was he wearing? That looked like the 80s ate a renaissance jacket, spat it back out, and paired it with jeans and shoes that haven’t been popular since 2002.”

           “Père would probably have me killed before letting me be seen in an outfit like that,” Adrien laughed.

           “Oh, oh, and the friend whose name I can’t remember, who said the same three lines of dialogue every time she came on screen?”

           “Yes that actress looked like she was saying her lines in her sleep!” Adrien agreed. “I mean, she could have – her friend always came to her with the same exact problem every time. Their conversations were so predictable she should have just set up a robot to give preprogrammed responses. So maybe it was an accurate characterization by the actress.” Marinette laughed loudly, covering her mouth with her hand, and grinned up at Adrien.

           “At least we get to mock it with each other,” she said shyly. Adrien’s fingers hesitantly found and caught Marinette’s.

           “Hey,” he said. “You know, the nice thing about this is, the Gorilla isn’t expecting to pick me up for another hour. As long as we’re back here by then, would you like to just take a bit of a walk together?” Marinette went red to her ears.

           “Y-y-yes!” she said. “I’d love that, Adrien!” Adrien smiled.

           “Thanks for inviting me to a terrible movie, Mari,” he said.

           Had he just given her a nickname? Marinette thought the world had fallen away from underneath her feet, leaving her to soar out into the sky.

[I am no longer accepting prompts, just completing the ones in my inbox]

anonymous asked:

"I'm holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright? It's a terrifying... Rom-com..." Rafa, please and Thank you

Movie night with Rafa used to be easy. The two of you would each pick a movie, bring snacks and watch the movies, usually criticising each other’s choices. It was nice and easy and honestly always the perfect break in your otherwise hectic lives.

That all changed once it became clear to you that your feelings for him were much stronger than you once thought. When you made that discovery, movie nights suddenly become a lot more stressful.

Suddenly you noticed the way the two of you sat together on the couch, how he would sit right next to you, his body pressed up against yours. Sometimes he’d put his arm around your shoulders, holding you against his body, especially if the movie was sad or scary as if he was trying to protect you.

At first you thought maybe he was interested in you too, but eventually just brushed it off as wishful thinking.

You even started to pick movies that might make him realise you were interested in him, finding any romantic comedy about a woman in love with her best friend that you could find hoping he’d pick up the on the hints but still nothing.

You’d even gone to Daveed to ask whether Rafa was ignoring your hints or just oblivious. Apparently oblivious was most definitely the answer but Daveed did assure you that Rafa has been interested in you for a while now.

So that is why after weeks of trying to make Rafa realise you’re interested in him without having to just say it out loud, you find yourself sitting as close to him as possible, reaching to hold his hand.

“Are you holding my hand for a reason?” He asks, looking down at your linked hands with an amused smile.

“I’m holding your hand because the movie is scary, alright? It’s a terrifying… Rom-com…” you mumble, quickly looking away from him and at the tv.

“Uh huh, It’s definitely terrifying,” he says.

“Don’t make fun of me Rafael,” you grumble, nudging his side with your elbow.

“I’m not! This sure is scary, especially the way she doesn’t even seem to lock her front door. Terrifying,” he says looking at you with a grin.

“Oh shut up.”

He chuckles softly, but doesn’t speak again for another few minutes. Instead he simply looks ahead at the tv.

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you didn’t need an excuse,” he says simply.

haunting-song  asked:

Okay, finally got the courage to send in this request! How about Zen as a merman meeting a human MC? It can be like The Little Mermaid if you like; both he and Ariel share that same inner strength and determination, a big reason as to why they are two of my all-time favorite characters. <3 Or it can be a plot of your own design. The idea of Zen as a merman sounds really awesome because he *does* look like he can come from another world, and I'm sure he'd look great as one. c: Thank you so much!

When I tried writing this, Zen always somehow ended up being a siren rather than a merman and took lots of rewriting trying to figure out a plot to use, but I finally did it! Sorry for the wait, and thank you for requesting! I really want to make a full multi-part/chaptered fic with this because I had a much deeper plot in mind, buuuut for now I’ll leave it like this. (I’ll post my fic ideas for what the deeper plot of it is later tho)


There was something about the land that seemed so fascinating to a sea-dweller like Zen. Perhaps because it was a world he doesn’t know much of and wanted to learn more, or perhaps it was out of mere curiosity. Humans were such strange creatures, and though they were interesting, they were quite dangerous towards merpeople.

What was it about immortality that made humans act so violent and greedy to get a chance at it? It wasn’t like the humans knew if those legends about merpeople were true. …Well, the legends of merpeople and their link towards immortality weren’t too far off. Zen himself has never come into contact with a human, but he has heard stories from others, so despite his curiosity towards the complicated creatures, he did maintain a safe distance from them.

But even so, Zen wanted to see what the land was like. The merman couldn’t leave the sea for too long, but he did enjoy spending some time on the shore in the middle of the night with no humans in sight as his eyes scanned around the area and starry sky.

It was just like any regular night with him spending some idle time on the shore when Zen picked up on some footsteps in the sand. He glanced around and saw a human from afar. You were walking along the shore, unable to find some sleep and decided to go for a quick stroll. Zen immediately retreated back to the water, but he couldn’t help but be curious. This was his first time seeing a human after all, so he stayed behind, still keeping a safe distance away and hidden away by the night.

You sit down onto the sand with a heavy sigh, wiggling your toes in the grains that offer ticklish sensations. The corners of your lips mar themselves into a frown as you recall something unpleasant from the day, and out of frustration, you pick up a small stone and throw it into the water. You were expecting to hear a splash, but all you heard instead was a voice.

“Ow!”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately stand up in a panic. “Who’s there?!”

Zen was about to leave at risk of getting caught, but he can see the fear in your expression, and he bites his lip. Human or not, he wasn’t one to leave a woman in distress. Trying to push away the thoughts of what the consequences might be, the merman makes himself known to you. “You should be careful throwing stuff into the ocean. People live here.”

Confusion etches its way onto your features as this gorgeous young man is revealed in the moonlight, his silvery white hair catching the moonlight in all the right ways. “Who…are you?” You ask slowly before your eyes look into the water and realize that this young man doesn’t have any legs but a— “Are you a merman?!” You gasp in awe and wonder.

There’s a small moment of silence before Zen asks, “…Are you not going to try to catch me to eat me?”

“What? Why would I do that?” Your face scrunches up in disgust at the idea.

“Isn’t that what you humans do with us? Eating the flesh of us merfolk to gain immortality?”

You furrow your eyebrows together. “I have no idea what kind of humans you’ve been hanging out with, but I’m not like that.” Suddenly realizing how rude you were being, you quickly introduce yourself, offering your name to the merman.

“I’m Zen,” the male introduces himself to you after coming to the decision that you seem friendly enough.

After that, it sort of became a natural occurrence for the two of you to meet up on the shore in the middle of the night. Both you and Zen engaged in conversations about each other’s world, interested in the way the other lived; however, the conversations started to shift at some point. It was no longer about the other’s world as a whole, but about the other as a person. The topics of discussion changed from the foods people eat to your favourite type of food, or places that exist to places you’ve been to and would want to visit.

“You know,” Zen starts one day, “we’re always talking here on the shore. How about we go a bit further into the water?”

You hesitate for a moment. “I-I would like to, but…the thing is…I don’t know how to swim. I-I’m afraid of drowning, to be honest, especially at night with nobody else around.”

“I’m here,” Zen reminds you with a reassuring smile. “I’ll keep you safe.”

You don’t know why, but you end up trusting the merman. You give a slow nod of your head. “Okay then, tomorrow night. I’ll be sure to wear my swimsuit.”

As promised, the next night, you had worn a swimsuit underneath your usual attire. Warmth crawled up to Zen’s cheeks as he watched you strip down to it before you take a few steps into the water. “It’s cold!” You complain with a shiver, but you don’t back out. You’ve already gone this far.

You continue walking, the seafloor getting deeper and deeper, and a sense of anxiety fills you the more your body is submerged in water. You’re on your tiptoes by now, and Zen immediately goes to your side, grabbing hold of your hand. “It’s okay, I’m right here. Just relax…”

You nod, putting your faith and trust in the merman, and he guides you a bit further into the water, squeezing your hand and not once letting go. You kick your legs around for a bit, trying to figure out what kind of movement would help you stay afloat, and after a while, you finally get used to it. Even after becoming more comfortable, however, Zen doesn’t let go of you, tilting his head to the side as he stares at you.

“This is the closest we’ve ever been,” the merman notes with a small hum, the sound ringing pleasantly in your ear.

You find yourself blushing at the realization, and offer an awkward sound of acknowledgement, finding yourself unable to trust your own voice at the moment. At your silence, Zen decides to continue, “It’s a bit strange… I didn’t expect humans to be so…soft to the touch. It’s nice, and I quite like it.”

Almost as though to prove his point, Zen trails a finger along the length of your arm, starting from the wrist all the way to your shoulders. Your heart leaps in your chest when he doesn’t stop, dragging all of his fingers now along the column of your neck to your jawline before cupping your cheek. Your heart hammers against you when Zen locks his gaze with yours.

There’s something about the way he looks at you that makes your cheeks flush. Somehow, it seems like your senses are heightened, and you can take note of every single detail. Your forms reflected on the surface of the water. The moonlight illuminating the pair of you. The subtle sounds of moving water. The warmth of Zen’s body against yours. The way his shaky breaths mix with yours in the small space between your lips as Zen leans closer towards you, tilting his head to the side which allows some of his hair around his shoulders to fall off.

You close your eyes in anticipation, and you feel Zen’s lips on the corner of your mouth. He lingers there for a moment before suddenly leaning back, almost as though just realizing what he was doing.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know why I—I-I just felt like…” The merman stumbles with his words before trailing off, the redness of his cheeks plainly obvious even in the darkness of the night.

You squeeze Zen’s hand, prompting him to look up at you. “I think I understand…”


[• Commissions •]
Masterlists: Imagines | Oneshots | MysMe Oneshots | Multi-part/Series | NSFW Oneshots | Browse by Tags

anonymous asked:

Fanfic anon again: Thank you! I'm just too chicken... here we go. "Just give her a moment, alright?" David said through gritted teeth shielding Gillian from curious eyes and prying ears. He felt not like her co-star at the moment, not even her friend but like a bodyguard."I'll call again soon. Yeah, thanks. I'll be... I'll be in touch." David thought he heard her hang up, a ridiculous notion, but it made him turn to her. She looked like Scully with her fake professionalism and even faker hair. 1

Her face when she finally looked up at him was all Gillian, though.

“How’s your kid?” Behind them he could hear the crew shuffling, pretending that moments like these didn’t cost money and time.

“He’s been asking for me.” Her voice sounded hoarse; she’d been sick, too, and with all the pressure and stress here on set, so far from her home and her children, he couldn’t blame her. 

“Guys…” Someone from the crew touched David’s shoulder. They needed to get back to work and he nodded.

His eyes found Gillian’s and she was still her. She might have looked like Scully to anyone else, but he could tell that she didn’t feel her today. She wanted to be anywhere but here. Wanted to be anyone but that character. 

“You think we can try again?” David asked her in a low voice. If anyone could get her back it was him. They all knew it. They gave her a moment to call home where her sick son was when nothing else worked.

She’d giggled through a dramatic scene, kept forgetting her lines, and her face remained stoic. David wasn’t going to tell her to use that pain and channel it. He would have done that years ago. He did do it then. He shook his head to clear the memory, but instead it became a colorful vision, a short movie someone had kept for old times sake, to point out his past mistakes and make him suffer. The way he made Gillian suffer.


Piper had been tiny, then. Maybe she’d been a year, maybe two years old. David had loved the child and had loved having her around. But it had been late. So very late and he just wanted to get to his trailer, call his girlfriend, sleep. Piper had been sick all day and Gillian had been off her game. She had constantly excused herself and now she couldn’t get it right, not once, and David had felt the blazing anger deep in his stomach. When the nanny had carried Piper away after the poor girl had been sick, almost splattering Gillian’s clothes in the process, Gillian had tried to find it. Find her Scully. In the distance Piper had screamed and when Gillian had lifted her head, David not seen it. Had not seen Scully.

“Get it together for fuck’s sake,” he had told her in a low voice, “She’s crying cause you keep screwing this up. You could have been with her hours ago.”

The change had been in her eyes and finally David yelled that they were ready. They had shot the scene faster than anything else that day.“Fuck you.” She had whispered to him right at the end. They hadn’t talked for a week after.


This time, now, is different. Her son isn’t here and if he were, David would not hesitate to send Gillian to be with him. If anyone knew what it felt like to not be able to help your sick child, then it was him.

“Do you think you can keep going?” David asked her and she nodded at him but he didn’t believe it.“Because if you’re not, I’ll tell them. We’ll take a break and you book a flight home. We’ll shoot when you’re back. When you know he’s all right.”

“It doesn’t work like that, David. You know that.”

“I don’t care. If that’s what you need we’ll make it work. I’ll talk to Chris.”“It’s not an option.”

“It is,” more crew members shuffled in the back. Everyone was getting impatient. “I’ll make you another offer.” Instead of an answer, her hand went to his shirt where she picked off an invisible piece of lint. "We’re doing this now and finish it. As quickly as possible. Just go through the motions. Then you fly home and when you come back you bring your boys, both of them, and we’ll stroll through New York. Remember you told me how much they loved the city? We’ll go to that Lego store and they get to pick whatever they want - well, one piece for each of them. But whatever they want. What do you say?“

"You mean it.” It was not a question. He nodded and waited.“Let’s roll, people.” Gillian yelled, her voice still hoarse, but full of power now. He watched her do the scene, flawlessly, and as he watched her walk off as part of the scene it was him who couldn’t keep himself, David, out of the scene. His heart did not break for Scully, but for Gillian.

Before she left for London, he reminded her of his promise. Not long after, he made good of it. Strolling through the city with her and her two boys, healthy and happy. 

THE END.

Awkward

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Words: ~653
Warnings: Lil bit of angst but not really
Summary: Your afraid to confess your feelings to Dean and decide it’s better to run away from your problems, but is it really a problem or are you overthinking?
A/N: My (late) submission for Taylor’s ( @impalaimagining ) Concert Challenge, my song was She Never Cried In Front of Me by Toby Keith. (I know it’s not a great title but I’m not that creative right now, I’m sorry.) 

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

You hated being in love with Dean. You watched as he flirted with random girls at bars, taking most of them back to a motel room and coming back to the bunker in the morning with a sly smile on his face.

You never told him how you felt, you were too afraid that it would make things awkward if he didn’t feel the same way so you kept it a secret. You didn’t even tell Sam but you were sure he could tell.

You let out a sigh as met Sam in the kitchen. “I’m gonna stay at the motel for a while.”

He nodded as he pulled you into a hug. “Be safe. And keep in touch, okay?”

“Will do, Winchester.” You gave him a soft smile as you walked outside. You were choking back tears as you drove. You thought you were doing what was best so you had to put on a brave face and get over it.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

So hi I'm not at all involved in spn meta world but I saw a post or two about the horseman famine episode with the sex and burger and how Dean claimed when he was hungry for something he'd feed himself and here he is now feeding himself multiple things. Work, weapons, sex, food. He even grosses himself out when the food is wrong. He's craving something or his worry for Cas and he's trying to fill the empty. Right? His behavior is 100% understandable and explainable.

Yeah, the most recent four posts in my tag for 5.14 (My Bloody Valentine, the episode with Famine) are all about 12.18.

(I guess once this posts, it’ll be five…)

SAM I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food.
CASTIEL Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something–Sex, attention, drugs, love…

I don’t think that’s meant to be an exhaustive list of the things people might be “starving” for, either, just like the list of “human things” he gave Hannah in 10.01 wasn’t meant to be the entirety of human things that angels don’t understand (art, hope, love, dreams).

This time there was no magical outside force at work on Dean, just his own internal issues. I already wrote about that some in this post.

This struck me equally hard as a parallel for Dean’s tendency to self-medicate his problems. Sometimes it’s through actual medication (like the time he offered Sam a bottle of random pills and when questioned what they are Dean only replies, “effective.”) He’s long ago learned how to manage these sorts of problems for himself. His whole life, he really didn’t have the time or space (heh) to have the same sort of extreme reaction to his situation that Sam did in running away from hunting and going to college.

And heck, this strikes me as both a “parental” thing and a depression/anxiety/insert the mental health issue of your choice here coping method. And it’s ALSO part of the reason why sublimation has been one of his go-to coping strategies. He couldn’t usually show any of this “weakness” to Sam, as the most consistent parental figure in Sam’s life. It was easier to just play off a lot of his coping strategies as who he was as a person instead of admitting that they WERE coping strategies.

And heck now I’m sadly thinking of 4.13 again, where we see Dean’s difficulties. John has abandoned them for a much longer time than normal, Dean’s stuck in this school watching over Sam while also worried about John and angry about having been left behind again, and he plays it all off as this “bad boy” character who doesn’t care about anything. The other students, like Sam’s friend Paul and initially the girl Dean is interested in, think he’s “cool,” but we eventually see through it here.

Amanda calls him out, saying she thought there was something more to Dean because of how he relates to his brother (kind, caring, gentle, etc.), but he enacts his womanizing persona and goes after another girl because things were actually getting too serious with her. He wasn’t allowed to have a serious relationship with anyone, but he was never going to stick around long enough for that. John would come back, and he’d have to drop everything and disappear again. Just like with Robin in 9.07. It was a self defense mechanism against being hurt again, but he still needed that kind of comfort and reassurance that comes from human touch, you know? So he got really good at satisfying that need.

And it’s part of his self-medication arsenal, along with drugs, with fighting, with using food this way, along with hustling pool (because hey it not only satisfies that need to be good at something and score a win, but also keep the family afloat), with hunting in general. We often see him trying to work out a problem or distract himself from a problem he can’t solve by maintaining his weapons (sharpening a knife, cleaning a gun, or a whole arsenal of guns) like at the beginning of 12.18.

But because these are coping strategies he uses in order to avoid having “chick flick moments,” (and yes, we know he loves chick flicks and so does Sam), the only way he can avoid a chick flick moment of his own with Sam (who is always pushing him to talk about his issues rather than act out), is to have made his coping strategies seem like another normal part of his personality.

This goes to the foundations of “Performing Dean.” He is absolutely not that jerk Sam has laughed about who gets weird about food or sex or whatever coping strategy he’s employing at the time. I mean, going all the way back to 1.03 Sam didn’t get that Dean WASN’T just being Dean and creepily hitting on Andrea like he’d been ogling their waitress at the beginning of the episode. Seeing the way Dean treated Lucas was shocking to him, and showed him a side of Dean that Dean largely kept hidden from Sam… because it was a side that had RAISED Sam, essentially.

But now in s12, Sam is finally seeing Dean drop that performance a little bit. He only seems to haul it out when he’s seeking out one of his go-to coping tools. In 12.18 it was almost like watching two different Deans. The worried, meticulously cleaning all the guns while getting frustrated about a lack of communication from Cas version, which led directly to his abrupt dropping of everything related to researching the case to get his fix (sleeping with Carmen, then having his weird food battle with Sam, finally ending when all his needs were satisfied when he got that burger), and then everything that happened after that. And it all hinged on what he said to Sam in the conversation at the lunch counter right after visiting the meat factory:

Sam: Seriously, Dean? After what we just saw? How– how can you eat?
Dean: Grow up, Sam, okay? Burger’s beef, bacon’s pig, Soylent Green’s people. But this – this… This is Heaven.
Sam: (going on a face journey of ew) Wow… right…Um, so… uh, What’s the word, you find anything?

All while “Burgers and Fries” plays in the background: “Burgers and fries, cherry pies, it was simple and good back then.”

And Sam’s a bit shocked not only at Dean’s words and his ability to keep eating when he “should’ve been” grossed out, but at Dean’s tone of voice. At first with the “Grow up, Sam, okay?” he sounds at the very least frustrated that Sam doesn’t get the nuances of Dean’s performance yet. Because part of that performance has always been Sam openly joking about what a jerk Dean can be, or how gross he is sometimes, and Dean is normally content to play along and joke right back. Like, haha yeah I’m just a walking stereotype nothing to see here just keep moving along as you were people just Dean being Dean.

And right here, Dean’s trying to show Sam that it’s not always or entirely something to joke about. It might have been simple and good back then, but it’s not anymore.

I think this is just another instance of Dean showing Sam something more truthful about himself, and he doesn’t appreciate being teased about it as if it was just another “Dean being gross and weird” sort of thing.

At the beginning of 12.18 while he was cleaning the Colt, Sam had been responding to Dean’s concern about Cas with reassurances, and the “he’ll be fine, he always is,” sort of thing before Dean changed the subject to finding Dagon.

Sam says he’s been up all night looking at books on demons, while we’re left to wonder what DEAN was doing all night if he wasn’t looking at books on demons. But he just TOLD us what he’s been doing… he’s been looking for Cas (well, with the limited tools available to human beings looking for angels who don’t seem to want to be found and might not even be alive if they were hunting Dagon who seems to be able to vaporize angels with her mind…)

And we see that worry play out in his behavior, getting antsier and more distracted from the case, relying on his Kill Everything (but five things) Gun to take care of the case for him, and seeking out his drug of choice to help him deal with his worry.

Just like he said in 5.14, when he wants something, he gets it. When he has a need, he fills it. Maybe not with the right thing to take care of the underlying problem that’s causing the need, but with the sort of temporary fix that he’s learned will help him cope.

And whoa yeah that’s no way to live, but Dean seems to recognize this too. It’s just he doesn’t really have a way to solve that underlying problem right now in the middle of this other case, but even with the Colt, hunting gods can get you real dead real fast if you’re too distracted by those problems to do the job properly.

I don’t even remember what the question was at this point. But here have a patented Mittens Rambling Mess Of Tangents. :P

a better son/daughter

Summary: Exploring the effects of Fitz’s relationship with his father throughout his relationship with his best friend, in three parts.

“You’ll be better, you’ll be smarter
And more grown up and a better daughter
Or son and a real good friend
You’ll be awake and you’ll be alert
You’ll be positive though it hurts
And you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends
You’ll be a real good listener
You’ll be honest, you’ll be brave
You’ll be handsome, you’ll be beautiful
You’ll be happyYour ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in”

– Rilo Kiley, “a better son/daughter”

A/N: Started writing this after the reveal about Fitz’s abusive father. The first scene of the third part is set after that episode, but there aren’t any references to the framework. I also wanted to address Jemma leaving after the pod in the context of Fitz’s father without glossing over her own trauma, so I hope that comes across.
Thanks to @itsavolcano​ as always for the beta and for the help with the ending! She suggested “happiness and kids,” so thank her for the fluff!

tw: verbal abuse mention, PTSD, panic attacks. 

Read below or at ao3!

i.  in the middle before we knew that we’d begun

Jemma has never suffered from panic attacks before but she recognizes the symptoms easily enough. She carefully charts the time and date of each occurrence, what she assumes the instigator has been, what it feels like: accelerated heart rate, trembling, sensations of smothering. Her lungs cannot draw enough air and she hates herself for it because she had, after all, drawn just enough air.

Her lungs had sucked up the oxygen meant to be shared and now she sits, back flat against her door, trying to hoard all the oxygen left in the world because she just can’t breathe.

When the attack passes, she presses her forehead against the side of her bed and cries, furious at herself because there’s no reason for her to be this weak. Her best friend is still recovering in a hospital bed because of what she’d done to him and the doctors told her he might never be the same. But she is perfectly fine.

She thinks, bizarrely, that she wants to go home. Not to her parents’ bright house in Sheffield, not to her cramped but familiar bunk on the Bus, but back to some amorphous feeling that’s already fading from her mind. Back to when everything in her world had been science and Fitz and cheap pizza at midnight, notes and schematics scattered along the floor. When her heart had been whole; when she hadn’t known it was possible to survive yet still feel the pressure of water drowning her every day.

Now, she cries so much the salt of her tears burns against the back of her throat and it tastes like inhaling the ocean. This is one truth she wishes she’d never learned.

++

Jemma drums her fingers nervously against her thigh. When Fitz had been in his coma, she held his hand, placed her ear against his chest to feel his heartbeat. Once, in a moment of weakness, she had crawled into bed next to him, holding him against her like her arms could keep him tethered to this world.

But now that he’s awake she retreats until there’s more space between them than there’s ever been. His confession mixes with her guilt until it’s a living, breathing entity that takes up all the space in his room.

When have they ever run out of things to say? When had their conversations ever been so one-sided?

“Fitz,” she says softly, speaking to him like he might disappear. Because what she fears more than anything is that he actually has. “Would you like me to call your mum?”

He turns to look at her for the first time since she sat down and shakes his head quickly, eyes wide.

“Don’t you think she ought to know?” Jemma persists.

Fitz stares at her as if sure she can read his mind but is refusing to. “Don’t w-w-want her to-to-to—” He cuts himself off with a growl, fisting the arm that’s not still in a cast into his bedding.

“You don’t want her to worry?” Jemma finishes for him.

Fitz nods, but he’s staring off again, no longer meeting her eyes. They sit like this in silence for awhile, until Trip stops by to ask Jemma a question. She excuses herself and her heart clenches painfully at the way Fitz looks so dejected.

She goes back to her room after helping Trip in the lab, not having the energy to spend more stilted hours with Fitz. He wants her with him all the time but he never seems happy when she’s around. To calm herself, she meditates on a list of her sins and thinks up apologies she’ll never be brave enough to deliver.

Dear Skye, I’m sorry for taking the last breath. I know how much Fitz means to you. I know I’ve been impossibly selfish.

Dear Coulson, I’m sorry I wasn’t smart enough. I’m sorry we weren’t field ready. I’m sorry I stole your best engineer from you.

Dear Linda, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know he’s all you have. I know I promised to take care of him in the field. I know you worried so much but you let him go anyway. I know you trusted me, and I know you never will again. I’m so sorry.

Dear Fitz —

But here her tears spill onto her cheeks and she can’t finish. There is no universe, she thinks, in which she can fully articulate what she feels when she looks at her best friend, when she hears him struggling to finish a simple sentence. There will never be enough words to fill up the space left between his smile and her scream.

And then there are times she looks at him, quiet and sweet in sleep, and feels a burst of anger because he made her take the oxygen, because he thought after everything she could just leave him behind, like she cares as little as his father had.

The self-hatred that immediately follows the anger is just another pinprick. She barely feels it.

++

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anonymous asked:

How do you think the process of Daryl falling in love came about? What makes Carol special? When do you think he stopped to think that "oh, I'm having weird (romantic) feelings for her and I feel like I want to get physical with her? (Lol don't judge the last part, don't want to be crude). Just curious on your thoughts.

Aaaahhh, what a beautiful ask, one for digging deep in the Caryl feels. :-)

To be perfectly honest, I believe that while seeing her crack Ed’s skull with the pickaxe he’d handed her after their camp had been overrun by walkers was amazing for him and he might have seen something of himself in her taking out years of humiliation and degradation on her abuser’s body, in my opinion what really made her special to him was her reaction to Sophia being lost.

We learn when he is out there looking for her that night, with Andrea, that he was lost as a kid himself and that nobody even noticed, let alone went out to search for him.

Carol, however, had been distressed over Sophia being out there on her own, with walkers everywhere, a defenseless, unarmed, twelve year old girl, nonstop ever since she had scrabbled out from under the car she was hiding under with Carl and running away in panic. When Rick came back alone because he had tried to draw the two walkers away from her, she was worried. When they went out looking together and didn’t find her she was worried. When she saw the blood on Rick and Daryl’s clothes from gutting the woodchuck walker, she was distraught. She was unable to fall asleep that night because she was so worried for her only child. She tried to suppress her sobbing for fear of annoying that scary, permanently angry guy who got into everyone’s faces all the time who was trying to get some sleep in the RV along with her.

This was something that he had never had himself as a child - parents, a mother, who worried for his safety and well-being, who noticed when he wasn’t where he should be, who were concerned and distressed when something bad happened to him. The “something bad” happening to him had, in fact, been his parents, who neglected and physically and emotionally abused him as a child.

Carol was the complete opposite in terms of parenting of what he himself had experienced, and this must have been a revelation to him. Before Sophia had run off in fear, he had seen Carol protecting her, looking out for her, watching over her, keeping her close so she would be safe. He had seen Sophia being comfortable around Carol, feeling safe and protected with her, again, in stark contrast to himself.

I think that he wanted to preserve this beautiful, strong relationship between mother and daughter, that he wanted to find Sophia because he wanted them both to be able to enjoy and live this again, especially since they were free of Ed now, and that Carol giving this to her child despite the difficult situation she herself had been in with Ed made him admire her for being able to do this. He wanted to give this back to them, because this made them extraordinary to him, it made Carol as a mother extraordinary to him. It was something fragile and beautiful that he wanted to save.

Also, Carol was probably the very first person who 

  • didn’t erupt in violent anger against him over failing to do something he had attempted, and had promised to do;
  • told him that he had value as a person despite having failed;
  • didn’t judge him based on his background and upbringing;
  • didn’t stereotype him because of who he was but allowed him to grow and develop into the person he was always meant to be - where pre-ZA society had denied him that;
  • put his well-being above her own and Sophia’s best interest by telling him to stay at the farm and heal instead of going right back out again to search for Sophia.

At this point, with the group still growing together and the dynamics between its members still evolving, every other member of this group thought very little of him despite everything that we know he had already been doing for them. None of them acknowledged his contributions to their survival and well-being well into 2A. Nobody gave him credit for providing food, being smart, protecting the group, looking for Sophia - something he was outright told nobody expected him to do after they had arrived at the farm because they didn’t actually consider him a part of their group. He was called selfish for not going out on his lonesome for three grown armed men while he was still healing from his injuries incurred during his search for Sophia. I will never be over this. The scene still makes my blood pressure appear. The first person after Carol to acknowledge what he was doing for them was Dale, and he died roughly five minutes after that.

And at this point in Daryl’s personal development, Carol made all the difference to him. She accepted and valued him as a person just the way he was, without judging him for a past and a background that he was unable to influence. Her acknowledgement gave him the room to grow into the man he is, and the courage to even try.

As for the next part of your ask (Why would I judge you for this? She is a beautiful woman, of course he will want to get physical with her!), he might have noticed an urge to go beyond teasing and elbow-nudging with Carol as early as the bus the night after they had taken the prison, when he does an obvious double-take once he realizes that he is touching her and she is enjoying his touch, isn’t trying to get away from him, is still smiling - and he himself isn’t exactly averse to actively touching her either. But he surely didn’t realize yet at that point what was beginning to stir inside him there.

I believe that he started to realize that this was love, at least from his side, when he heard that she had been exiled, and by the time of the Terminus reunion I am convinced he knew that what he feels for her is love. Look at his face when he turns his head and recognizes her. Look at his smile just before they hug. Look at his face during their hug, listen to the overwhelmed little sounds he makes, look at his eyes once he manages to let go and actually look at her again. Daryl knows that he loves Carol, and since their rescue mission to Atlanta he knows that she now sees him as a man and no longer as someone with the mental and emotional maturity of a child. Now he needs to find the courage to ask her if she loves him back - or to say, “yeah, love you too,” if she should tell him first. :-)

I absolutely loved this one, thank you for sending me this! <3